Fixer Upper Lyrics

I fall in love with my father's friend, an Alpha 20 years my senior. I'm only eight when I first meet him. It happens at a banquet for the upper echelons of the werewolf pack. My father brings me with him. Layson Romanov instantly catches my eye. He stands tall at six feet and two inches, and his toned figure shows through his black suit. He exudes a natural dominance. My father introduces me to him, and he caresses my hair with a smile. Then, he gives me a pink dress adorned with pearls and pink diamonds. "You'll look beautiful when you're old enough to wear this." Back then, I didn't understand what he meant. … Ten years later, I put on that dress and enter his room. He's drugged after falling into someone's trap, and his wolf is out of control. His usually calm eyes are filled with mania. I know that he'll go insane—even lose his life—if he doesn't have an antidote. So, I give him my pure, untainted body. I become his antidote. We later marry, and he loves me as my father would've done. However, when I'm four months pregnant, I discover that his personal secretary, Grace Parker, is also pregnant. "I'm sorry to have put you through this, Grace. Everyone knows I only married Charlotte out of duty. I'll make sure our child is my only heir," he says. It all makes sense now—no wonder Layson refused to mark me despite us being married. Grace is the one he loves. I'm heartbroken. I ingest a large amount of wolfsbane, leading to a miscarriage. I ultimately die of blood loss. Intense regret washes over me as I breathe my last breath. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been reborn. I'm taken back to the day Layson is drugged…

“What do you think you are doing?” He asked with his eyes getting darker with every passing second. “S-Seducing you.” I mumbled while fidgeting my fingers as his deep breath made the sensitive spot between my legs to throb. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It should be the other way round. “And who are you?” He asked as he lowered his head with his warm breath fanning my upper lip. I gulped as my body was visibly trembling. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t. His eyes had these magnets which were attracting every fiber inside my body towards him. “Y-your…y-your…” A lone tear escaped my eyes with my lower lip trembling. “My what?” He rasped as his black raven eyes were dwelling inside my emerald ones as I whimpered when he clenched my hairs in a fist at the back of my neck. “Your whore.” I admitted and he smashed his lips against mine. “Let me treat you like one then.” He growled inside my mouth.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

After my elder brother passed away, I took my sister-in-law home. She and my wife were identical twins. I always mixed them up. Fortunately, my wife had a red mole on her upper body. “Wyatt, can you tell my elder sister and me apart?” My wife pestered me while throwing amorous glances my way. I eyed her fair upper body and replied confidently, “Of course…”

Albert Meyer, a former fixer of a large underground crime syndicate, wants his name cleared from the roster. He can achieve it on the condition that he has to do one last job for his foster father. He contemplates the choices he has to make and it was going well—until someone dies on his watch. Now he has to make sure no more deaths occur as he tries to choose between his emotions or duty—even as an incoming Wedding threatens to put his mind into discomposure.

“I fix things that need fixing. And you, Raven, are broken.” When his best friends Vice and Victor ask Raven, a PI, to investigate Gregory Holmsworth, the estranged grandfather of Vice and Victor’s girlfriend, Mirage, Raven is drawn into the underworld of the music industry. Although on the surface Gregory Holmsworth’s business seems legit, his path has not always been on the right side of the law. When Raven’s investigation is noticed, Gregory sets Vixen to distract him. Vixen is Gregory’s Fixer, a role which is wide and varied in activity, but for Vixen, mainly involves the music side of his business, as Vixen is the lead singer of a punk band just breaking into the industry. Whilst Raven has been looking into Gregory, Vixen has been looking into Raven, and she sends him an invitation to meet with her, luring him with the promise of a way into Gregory’s business and secrets. But Vixen has other plans for Raven. She likes pretty boys, and broken things, and she has decided that Raven fits both descriptions to a tee.

All Boluwatife Coker wants is a stable job. Nothing more, nothing less. The rest doesn't matter. When she finally achieves that, will she be able to concentrate solely on that with her arrogant yet irresistibly attractive boss around?_____If you are born in Nigeria that is one set back in life. And if you are born into an average middle-class family with no connections to the upper class in the society, you have just earned two stumbling blocks simultaneously.Boluwatife Coker is a fresh graduate who just badged a second class upper degree, mass communication to be precise in the prestigious University of Lagos. She has swept the entire streets of Lagos with her feets all in the name of searching for a job.But what happens when she gets a promising job, a good pay, and an arrogant, billionaire jerk as a boss. A sweet cocky bastard that makes her heart race frantically in ways words can not describe.

Lavish London mansions. A hand-painted Rolls-Royce. And eight dead friends. For the British fixer Robbie Chase, working for the Russian's President most vocal critic meant stunning perks – but also constant danger. His gruesome death is one of 14 that retired British Agent QUINTUS NOONE has linked to Russia – but the UK police shut down every last case. QUINTUS NOONE'S investigation reveals the full story of a ring of death on British soil that the government has ignored.

Gina and I were just ordinary werewolves in the Silver Claw Pack. Our incomes were modest, but we married well. Her mate was the captain of the Silver Claw Pack patrol unit. Mine, the fire squad leader. They grew up together—childhood friends—and were the youngest golden duo in the Werewolf Alliance. On the day we married, our mates each bought us a luxury high-rise apartment on the top floor of the central castle, side by side, with the promise of sharing life and death together. That is, until that fateful night. Rogues broke into the central zone. Chaos reached even the upper levels of our building. The tower caught fire. Amidst the thick smoke, I sent a desperate mind-link to my mate. He blocked it. Turns out, both our mates were busy shielding their shared first love, Lifu. They ignored our calls for help. Gina dragged me as we ran. She was six months pregnant; her pup was already kicking from the panic. Her mate never showed up either. We made it to the stairwell, where we were trapped for five hours. Toxic fumes filled our lungs. I went into labor too early. My pup didn't make it. Gina bled for three days in the hospital. Her pup was gone too. Meanwhile, our mates were digging through the wreckage—twenty-four hours straight—searching for Lifu's lost dog. That was it. Right then and there, Gina and I looked at each other and knew. We were done.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.